Pieces of Me
by xmarie08
Summary: THEN- Castiel rescued Dean from Hell. NOW- he rescues him from his nightmares. Both men are more connected to each other than they'd like to admit. Dean/Cas
1. Chapter 1

**Spoilers:** All of Season 4

**Disclaimer:** Only mine in my dreams. Kripke has my undying gratitude.

**Author's Note:** This is my only my second story, it was originally going to be just a sex drabble but it's taken on a life of it's own and I can't seem to stop!

Reviews and comments would be much appreciated!

* * *

The first time it was curiosity.

Castiel watched as his new charge tossed and whimpered in his sleep. He gently placed two fingers on Dean's forehead and propelled himself in.

That first night there were just flashes. Random images flickering across Castiel's field of vision as if Dean's subconscious was flipping through channels on a television set. Blood splattering… Screams echoing… Blades slashing through soft flesh...

He'd seen enough. Concentrating, he slowly pulled himself out of Dean's mind and back to the dingy hotel room. Cas stood over the hunter and watched as he twitched, brow furrowed, grimacing. He stood there until he sensed Sam returning to the room.

He shouldn't have done that. It wasn't part of his orders.

Cas hoped that those flashes were all Dean would remember, because he remembers hell and he's not sure any human can handle that knowledge.

****

Dean gets worse. He becomes withdrawn… distracted. The nightmares kept him from any restful sleep. He's drinking all day every day. Cas kept vigil each night but he doesn't walk back into Dean's dreams. He told himself that he couldn't interfere with out an order. Then, in throws of a particularly bad dream Dean muttered a pitiful prayer, "please God... please… help me." After a moment's hesitation Cas dove in.

Acrid smoke filled his lungs. The horrifying and distinctive smell of burning flesh assaulting his nostrils. He walked slowly into the dark chamber ahead. He finds Dean strapped to a rack. A demon leering over him. "Please Alistair… don't," Dean chokes.

Cas concentrated on the torturer. _Be gone_. And he is. Cas moved over to Dean who is stares at him- a mixture of awe and relief etched on his face. The angel reached down, gripped the hunter's arm and gently held him to his chest.

Dean let out a muffled sob. "Where are you taking me?"

"Anywhere you wish" Castiel replied. He searched Dean's memory and selected the first calm, peaceful scene he found. Suddenly, they were back on the park bench where they discussed the rising of Samhain. Dean let out a contented sigh, closed his eyes and tilted his head back to bask in the perfectly sunny day.

Cas withdrew from the dream. He looked down at his charge and saw a faint smile on Dean's lips. Without thinking he softly swept his hand across Dean's cheek. Remembering himself, Castiel snatched his hand away and quickly departed.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean's dreams continued to plague him. There were several variations. Sometimes he was buried alive and try as he might he could not dig himself out of his own grave. Sometimes a darkside Sam killed him or he killed Sam. Sometime he was being tortured in Hell. Sometimes he was doing the torturing. The most common one though featured Dean as both the victim and torturer. Night after night he would torture himself… carving, slicing, ripping… all the while feeling the agony, ecstasy, guilt and despair. And now, each night Castiel would appear as Dean's salvation. He'd grip Dean tightly, deliver him to a different memory or fantasy and take his leave.

Then Dean started slipping back in to the nightmares. One minute he'd be happily joking at Sammy's wedding and the next the guests were all slaughtered and Sam was laughing- yellow eyes gleaming. So Castiel started staying with Dean in his pleasant dreams, tethering him to these happy places. He tried to keep his distance and Dean didn't seem to notice he was there.

It was… informative Cas decided. He was piecing together Dean Winchester and through these encounters he began to feel closer to him than he'd ever felt to anyone…

….aside from his holy father of course.

***

Cas sat on a park bench as he watched Dean play with Lisa and their son Ben. The happy, charming, carefree young man of this dream seemed so different from the tormented hunter that Castiel knew. And yet…he wasn't. It was the same beautiful soul.

Lisa called Dean and Ben over to the picnic table to eat their lunch. Dean grabbed a hot dog and started piling on the condiments when he looked up and saw Castiel. Their eyes locked and Dean froze. Afraid that the recognition might trigger a slide into a nightmare Castiel forced himself to look away. "Honey, is everything ok?" Lisa asked.

"What? Er, uh, yeah. Everything is fine," Dean shook his head quickly as if to clear away the cobwebs. "Better than fine," he said smiling. But Cas noticed the smile fade a little when Lisa turned away.

After that Dean seemed to always find Cas. They'd lock eyes across a park, a noisy bar, a smoky strip club and the rest of the scene would fall slightly out of focus. The intensity would send a shiver down Castiel's spine. Dean wasn't fully conscious of these encounters in the light of day but occasionally his subconscious flared and Cas would catch him looking curiously at the angel and absentmindedly rubbing the shoulder where his mark was seared.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Hope you like it so far... the sex starts here!

* * *

The night after Anna reclaimed her Grace Cas found himself in a memory he didn't want to see.

He watched Dean lower Anna on to the backseat of the Impala as she started to unbuttoned her blouse. Cas was rooted to the spot, unable to look away though he desperately wanted to. Dean slipped his faded tee over his head and leaned back in hungrily for a kiss though at the last second he lifted his eyes and stared right at Castiel.

And Cas _felt_. Passion… jealousy… desire… love… the onslaught of emotions overwhelming all reason, but while his mind was paralyzed his body was _responding_. Panicking, Castiel propelled himself out of the dream. He leaned against the wall and looked down at his still sleeping charge. _What the hell was that? _Cas thought. _Nothing. Just… muscle memory… yes, that must be it. The Vessel was remembering sex… it had nothing to do with him_… He just about had himself convinced when Dean rolled over with a low moan and the bed sheet slipped down revealing a substantial erection underneath his grey boxer-briefs. Cas was instantly hard.

_Lord, forgive me_.

Instinct took over and he fled the motel. _I… what… no… but…_ Cas couldn't even form a coherent thought. He didn't even know where he was. He stopped and looked around. He was standing in the center of a wooded clearing. The trees were felled in a perfect circle and a small wooden cross stood at the center. He was back where it all started.

"Son of a…" he caught himself mid-curse. One more bad habit he'd picked up from Dean Winchester. And he started_ laughing_. He laughed until he felt tears pricking his eyes. "What the hell is happening to me?" he whispered softly.

Cas walked to a fallen tree at the edge of the clearing and slid down next to it. He focused on feeling the damp earth underneath him, the rough bark of the tree pressing into his back, a cool evening breeze ruffling his hair. When he finally felt calm and centered he attempted to look back on the evenings events.

So Dean and Anna… that had definitely happened, Cas and been dreamwalking enough to distinguish a memory from a fantasy. He tried to objectively examine his warring emotions. Envy, an ugly, sinful emotion, he tried not to dwell on it. Gratitude, that one surprised him. He realized he was grateful that Anna was able to offer Dean some level of comfort and pleasure. Hurt, because he was unable to provide that himself. Lust… he closed his eyes remembered how Dean looked with his shirt off—a perfectly sculpted body unmarred, save for a single handprint…

_Damn it_.

Cas looked down in embarrassment. His vessel was responding physically—again. How did this happen? How did he go from being a ferocious warrior of heaven to the quivering mess now sitting in the dirt? And all over a lowly human… No, over Dean… the most beautiful soul Castiel had ever known.

His arousal showed no signs of dissipating. He had been observing humanity long enough that he knew what he needed to do. Bringing himself to do it, well, that was something else... He almost started laughing again at the absurdity of the situation. An angel of the Lord sitting alone in the dark by a grave with a raging hard-on contemplating jerking off while imagining the former occupant of said grave. He imagined what Dean would say, "freaking hilarious dude. Now man up and get on with it! Not like you can go meet up with the rest of the holy rollers looking like that…"

He could almost hear Dean's voice. He let his fingers gently drift downward and graze the front of his pants. "Ahhh…" he gasped softly. Castiel was beginning to understand. He'd observed humanity from afar for a millennia but he'd never really comprehended their behaviors, their motivations. But as he sat here in the dark, unzipped his pants and wrapped his hand tightly around his cock, it all made sense. He pictured Dean in the backseat of the Impala, eyes filled with desire, as Castiel wrapped his hand over his mark and Dean moaned his name, "Cas…" And that was all it took to push him over the edge. He cried out Dean's name and rode the wave of ecstasy to its conclusion.

When he finally came back to himself he noticed the uncomfortable stickiness of hands, felt the sweat that was dripping down his back. Horrified, he whispered, "Oh God, what have I done…"


	4. Chapter 4

After the incident in the clearing Castiel avoided Dean. He was too ashamed to face him. He kept an eye on him to be sure he wasn't in any danger but he kept his distance. No more dreamwalking. Instead, if he could tell that a dream was particularly bad he would try to rouse him by slamming the bathroom door or something like some common spook. It was truly pathetic. He didn't know what else to do. He prayed (silently of course, couldn't risk his brothers overheard) but he received no revelation, was offered no absolution.

Uriel saw Castiel pulling away from Dean and thought it was because of their disagreement over Anna and kept giving him his smug smile. Castiel found it irritating.

Cas was sitting on a park bench praying when Zachariah appeared next to him.

"So Castiel… Cas, can I call you Cas? What are we going to do about you?"

Cas tensed, but kept his expression even, "Excuse me?"

"Dean Winchester, Heaven's little Manhattan Project…" Zachariah said with a smirk, "Why are you avoiding him?"

Castiel felt his mouth go dry, "I…I'm not…" he swallowed, "I just thought that after everything with Anna he needed a break from… angels…"

"Hmm, perhaps… but I think you've given it enough time. We need to get you two kids back together." Cas tried his best to keep a blush from creeping over his cheeks.

Zachariah stood buttoning his blazer, "Where would the Karate Kid be without Mr. Miyagi, right?"

Castiel nodded.

********

Dean and Sam turned in early for bed. At least that's what Dean thought. As soon as Dean was asleep Sam snuck out and Ruby picked him up. The brothers had hardly spoken to each other that day, the encounter with the siren still weighing heavily on them, so Castiel wasn't surprised to see Dean was already tossing restlessly. He took a deep breath and dove into the dream.

Sam had Dean psychically pinned to the wall in a trashed hotel room. Dean struggled against his invisible bonds, "I won't do you any good Dean. I'm too strong… too powerful."

"Please Sammy…"

"Please Sammy," he mocked Dean. "You're pathetic you know that?" Sam saw Castiel hovering in the doorway. "Oh look, it's your little boyfriend here to rescue you. How positively adorable" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I guess that's why the siren was a man; it was tapping into all of that barely repressed lust you have for angel boy here."

Cas couldn't help it, he blushed a little as he walked over to Dean and grabbed his arm. "Time to go Dean" he said softly. He dropped Dean into the memory of a strip club and quickly started to exit the club.

"Hey… Hey wait" he heard Dean call after him. He picked up his pace and pushed his way out of the emergency exit. He was outside the club in a dark alley light by a single street lamp with the Impala parked several feet away. "Hey!" Dean grabbed him and spun him around. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Cas looked down at Dean's hand clutching his jacket and back up at Dean. "I…. I'm just… trying to help…" he stammered.

Dean pushed him backwards, "well who the fuck asked you to? Jesus Christ Cas! I'm sick of everyone getting inside my fucking head!" He turned away from Castiel.

"Dean…" Castiel reached a hand out to his shoulder and Dean turned around and took a swing at him, his fist hitting squarely on the unprepared angel's jaw. Castiel stumbled back and brought his hand up to his mouth to dab at the blood flowing from his split lip. Dean stepped forward, eyes blazing until he was almost nose to nose with Castiel.

"So what, you get your rocks off by watching my dreams, is that it?" Dean sneered, his eyes brimming with tears. "You see these pieces of me and, what; think of new ways to manipulate me?" A single tear slid down his cheek.

"Dean…" Cas murmured as he reached up to cup Dean's face, the tear sliding gently into his hand. Dean closed his eyes and leaned slightly into Cas's hand. And then Castiel did something stupid. He kissed him.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: It's mind-blowing sex time! Enjoy!

* * *

The kiss was light and chaste at first. But Dean's lips were so soft and felt so good that Castiel deepened the kiss and at first Dean responded. Then, as his brain caught up to his body he went rigid and shoved Castiel away. "What the fuck dude?" he said shakily, bringing his hand to his mouth, eyes wide. "Seriously, what the fuck was that?"

Castiel was mortified, "I… I… I just…" Unable to bear the weight of Dean's gaze he started studying the Impala's hubcaps. "I wasn't thinking…"

Dean reached over and grabbed Castiel's face, turning it to him, "So what, you heard that crap Sammy was spouting and decided to try to make me feel better? You think I need some pity fuck or something?" he spewed angrily. Castiel's eyes went wide and he tried to shake his head no, but Dean's grip was too tight. "Well I don't need your pity you sanctimonious prick" he seethed as he roughly let go of Cas and turned away. "We're done here."

Thinking about it later, Cas realized he should have just left then. But he didn't. He was pissed. "Dean!" he barked as he strode over to grab the hunter's arm. Dean tried to take another swing at him but Castiel was ready this time. He caught Dean's arm and swung him around so he was pinned up against the brick wall of the club. Dean's eyes were wide with surprise. "You should show me some respect" Castiel said in his most menacing voice. "I pulled you from the pit and now at night I save you from yourself. Why do think you've suddenly been sleeping better? Feeling the need to drink less? I live inside your head and it's making me feel… _ Feel_ Dean. Angel's aren't supposed to feel. I'm not supposed to want anything but God's love so excuse me if I forgot myself for one damn minute!" He released Dean and took two steps back. He slipped back into his typical stoic demeanor and gazed down the empty alleyway, "you should go back inside and enjoy the show."

"Cas…" Dean said softly. Castiel didn't respond. Dean started to walk back to the side door to the club. Halfway there he stopped, paused for a second, threw up his hands and said "oh what the hell." He spun around and strode back to Castiel, grabbed him by the lapels, and crushed his lips to his.

Neither man was prepared for just how electric the kiss would be. Instinct took over and lips parted, tongues explored. When they broke to breathe they stared into each other's eyes briefly before Dean licked his lips and bent to kiss Cas's neck. "Dean…" Castiel gasped, his logical mind trying to break through the fog of desire.

"Shut up" Dean hissed as his teeth grazed Cas's earlobe, "Don't think, just feel." He pushed Cas over to the wall of the club, grabbing his wrists and pinning them next to his face as he pressed his forehead to Castiel's. Then, Dean ground his entire body into Castiel's and both men cried out. Dean cupped Castiel's face in both hands and kissed him deeply as he rocked their hips together. Castiel used his now free hands to stroke down Dean's back until he reached the hem of his t-shirt and then he slid his hands up underneath it. Dean took a step back and tugged his tee off over his head.

"Beautiful…" Cas whispered as he gently ran his fingers along Dean's collar bones with a feather light touch. Dean shivered as he watched Cas examine his handprint and when Cas lined up his fingers and grabbed hold such an intense wave of desire shot through him he almost came right there like a teenager.

"Oh God, Cas!" he cried as eyes rolled back into his head. Castiel couldn't hold out against such intensity. He came with a choked sob and let go of Dean, leaning back against the wall with his eyes closed trying to keep upright. "What was that?" Dean panted. "Was that you I was feeling? Were you feeling me?"

"I think so…" Castiel murmured. He opened his eyes and saw Dean's piercing green eyes staring back at him. "When I pulled you from hell you were in pieces. Your soul, I mean. You'd been twisted and torn and I think a little of myself transferred into you to mend the pieces back together. But, I think that some of you bled into me as well. I think that handprint is the physical manifestation of that link."

Dean processed this for a minute and smiled ruefully, "I don't know whether to be terrified or relieved." Castiel tilted his head questioningly. "Well, if this" Dean gestured at the two of them "is really just about some spiritual bleed back then I guess my, uh, masculinity is still intact."

Castiel stepped forward and placed his hand over Dean's heart, "is that what you really believe?" he asked gently, no hint of judgment in his voice.

Dean closed his eyes and brought a hand up to cover Cas's. "No…" he whispered shakily, "No, I don't." He opened his eyes and they were brimming with tears. "I want you… I want you so bad it hurts."

Cas leaned in and kissed him gently. The tears flowed over and Castiel kissed them away as he ran his hands down Dean's spine. When he reached his waist he ghosted his fingers around to unbutton and unzip Dean's jeans. Dean shuddered, pressing his straining erection into Castiel's hands. Cas leaned in and kissed Dean's neck as he reached into Dean's boxers and liberated his rock hard cock. Dean let out a low throaty moan that excited Castiel and he found himself growing hard again. He kissed down Dean's chest, stopping to swirl his tongue around each nipple as worked his way down.

On his knees, Cas slipped Dean's pants down and took Dean's cock into his wet mouth. "Aahhhh…." Dean threw his head back, "Oh sweet jesus…" "Oops" he looked down at Cas sheepishly, "Sorry, it's just… aahhh… you're amazing" he breathed as he reached down to card his fingers in Castiel's hair. Castiel kept his eyes locked on Dean's as he sucked and licked and teased. Somehow, he knew just what to do to please Dean and that in turn, was pleasing him. He reached down and undid his pants and massaged his own dick as sucked on Dean's. "Yes… Yes…" Dean moaned.

Suddenly Dean's hands gripped Castiel's hair and he yanked his head away and angled it upward, "Do you trust me Cas?" he asked staring so intensely into Castiel's eyes that the angel shivered involuntarily as he nodded. Dean reached down and grabbed him by his tie and pulled him to his feet. He led him over to the Impala and pressed him up against the hood and kissed him deeply. They both moaned with pleasure at the feeling of each other's dicks against each other. Castiel reached down and grabbed them both in his hands stroking hard and fast.

They were both getting close. Dean pushed away and answered Cas's questioning look with a silent _Trust me_. He grabbed Cas's tie and pulled him into a kiss as he reached down ripped his button down shirt open. He ran his hands over Castiel's chest realizing that this vessel was far more cut underneath his suit than Dean would have imagined. He froze for a second; thinking of the vessel, but the look of longing in Castiel's eyes quickly banished the thought. He eased the shirt and jacket from Castiel's shoulders, removed his tie and wrapped long arms around him, kissing him deeply, rocking their hips together slowly. Dean worked his lips over to Castiel's ear and growled, "I wanna fuck you."

Castiel bucked underneath him and let out a strangled moan. Dean kissed his neck and nipped playful at his shoulder. He rocked back on his heels, pulled Cas up off of the car and turned him around. Dean reached around and stroked Cas, reveling in his excitement. He took his other hand and drew his fingers across Cas's lips and Cas seemed to know instinctively what Dean wanted. He took Dean's fingers in his mouth and sucked on them with the same rhythm Dean was stroking him. When his fingers were saturated he slipped them from Castiel's mouth, traced down his spine and eased a finger into him. Castiel gasped and Dean froze, afraid that he'd hurt him. Cas rocked back against him, "Please Dean don't stop" he whimpered.

Dean couldn't wait any longer. "Stay right there" he commanded Castiel. He reached into the Impala and fished out some lube. He saturated his hands, wrapped one around Castiel's cock and one around his own. Dean leaned down across Cas's back as he pushed his cock into Cas's ass. "Oh God, you're so tight" he groaned. He started pumping his hips and his hand swiftly, while Castiel writhed under him. They were both so close.

Castiel reached back and gripped his handprint and both men exploded, crying out in ecstasy, tears streaming down their faces. The orgasm was longer and more intense than anything either man could possibly imagine. Their vision went white and Dean could almost swear he felt the caress of soft feathers.

When it was over they collapsed against the hood of the Impala. Panting, shaking, slick with sweat and semen and tears, they held on to each other tightly as if they might shatter into a million pieces without it.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: The story has mostly been from Castiel's perspective so far but I'm going to start mixing it a bit starting with Dean here. Let me know what you think of the story so far!

* * *

Dean 's vision was coming back slowly, like that moment after a camera flash goes off only longer, when he heard a soft whimper beneath him. Suddenly, he was conscious of the soft flesh beneath him and when he looked down he saw the tear streaked face of an angel. A literal fucking angel. A fucking male angel who he just bent over the hood of his car and violated.

"Oh my god," he said his voice shaking as he slipped off of Castiel's back. "Omigod... omigod…" he keeps repeating as he reached down and yanked his jeans up from around his ankles. He backed away a couple of steps, running his hands nervously through this hair. He's torn, feeling the need to go pull up Cas's pants because he can't bear the thought of looking at him like that, but also terrified of touching him again.

Cas beats him to the punch though, lifting himself up off the car, straightening his clothes, and looking at Dean with sad eyes and that maddeningly quizzical head tilt of his. "Dean, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong? What's_ wrong_?" Dean almost shouts. He's suddenly paler, "Oh, god… I think I'm going to be sick…" and he's lurches to the ground heaving, not seeing the devastated blue eyes above him.

Castiel is so ashamed that he hurls himself out the dream and the motel room with such force that Dean wakes moments later. His eyes snap open and he's instantly aware of the warm stickiness in his groin. "I am so fucking screwed" he says out loud before he catches himself, glancing at Sammy's bed. And for once, Dean is really glad he's not there.

He lay in bed, unmoving, breathing heavily, coated in sweat, heart pounding in his ears, trying not to think about the amazing and terrifying dream he just had. After a few minutes his breathing evened out and his pulse slowed, still a little quick, but not in heart attack territory anymore. He was definitely too amped up to sleep. The cooling sweat was giving him chills and with the evidence of his dream still damp in his lap his mind kept wandering back there so a shower seemed like the best option.

Dean didn't realize how tense his whole body was until he felt the water streaming down his back. He turned the hot water up to scalding. Feeling more relaxed now he tried to remember the dream. The one where he defiled something sacred. The one where he forced himself on an angel. The one where he, Dean Winchester, fucked a _man_… and loved it.

_It was just a dream. It was just a dream. _ The most intense and erotic dream of his life maybe, but just a dream nonetheless. Feeling Castiel writhing underneath him, pushing his hips back to meet Dean's thrusts… _fuck_. He tried to stop thinking about it. Thought instead about a pair of sad blue eyes and a tear streaked face. _What have a done?_ he thought. _Just a dream. Just a dream_. He needed to distract himself so he grabbed the shampoo and working the lather through his hair.

And then he remembered—remembered what had started the whole thing. Castiel had kissed him. Cas kissed _him_.

_Right, 'cause that makes this all better,_ he thought to himself. _You conjure up a dream angel to seduce _you_ so you don't feel guilty about violating _him. And it did feel like a violation. Dean had never really thought of sex as a weapon, before. A defense, a distraction from his own issues, hell yes, but a weapon? That was something he learned from Alistair.

Alistair loved it. Or maybe he just loved how much Dean hated it. It was probably the thing that broke him. Dean could deal with pain, he'd been shot, and stabbed, and broken bones before, but the abject humiliation… He started shaking from the memories and fumbled to turn the hot water up as far as it would go, as if he could wash away his sins.

He closed his eyes and thought of Castiel rescuing him from hell. He wasn't sure if it was a memory, or a dream, or just a fantasy, but he didn't really care at the moment. A hand gripping his shoulder.

"It's time to go Dean"

"Where are we going?"

"Anywhere you wish."

And he was back in the alley. Skin on skin. Hands roaming. He wrapped his hand around dick and stroked, remembering the feel Castiel's warm mouth taking him in…

He didn't last long. When it was over he leaned his forehead against the cool shower tiles and stood there until the water turned icy, trying not to cry.


	7. Chapter 7

When Castiel left the motel he didn't consciously go there, but when he realized he was back in the clearing he wasn't surprised. He collapsed in a heap next to the same tree as last time.

A drop of water fell into his hand and he realized with surprise that silent tears were streaming down his face. He'd cried tears of joy in the dream with Dean, but this was the first time he actually done in it reality and it certainly wasn't joy he was feeling.

_Don't think; just feel_ he remembered Dean saying. His breath hitched and then he was sobbing. He curled up on the ground, arms wrapped around his legs. _The fetal position_ a voice in the back of his head floated the term, as he shook and wept.

After what felt like an eternity, the overwhelming grief subsided and Castiel could ruminate on the evening without being racked by more sobs. It was all his fault. He'd kissed Dean and then refused to let him walk away afterward. Cas could have stopped what happened; but he didn't. He wanted it. Wanted it so bad that he didn't care what Dean wanted or needed. He wanted it so bad that he let himself believe that Dean wanted him.

But he didn't.

_I think I'm going to be sick_ he'd said.

Cas rolled onto his back and fought back the bile rising in his own throat. Looking up at the stars he prayed silent to his holy father that Dean wouldn't remember this dream.

****

Sam still hadn't been back to the motel room when Dean finally got out of the shower and collapsed into bed. _Thank heavens for small favors_ Dean thought and wince at the turn of phrase.

When he woke in the morning Sam was getting dressed. As Dean rolled out of bed Sam looked at him curiously with a furrowed brow, "weren't you…" He stopped himself.

_Must have noticed the change of clothes_ thought Dean as he just stared at Sam.

"Never mind…" Sam reached down and grabbed his coat. "I'll go run and get coffee and donuts."

"Whatever," Dean mumbled as the door clicked shut.

****

The next few weeks were rough. Dean was exhausted because he was afraid to go to sleep and Castiel was too hurt and ashamed to go anywhere near his charge. They were both a mess.

Uriel was getting suspicious though so Castiel decided he should go check in. He waited until Sam left before appearing in the motel room. Dean was tossing and turned again. He let out a pitiful whimper and Castiel felt tears pricking in his eyes. He couldn't just stand there watching so he was about to leave when Dean whispered "Cas… Cas… I'm so sorry… so sorry."

Castiel froze, afraid Dean was awake. When he realized he was still dreaming he inched closer to the bed.

"Please… don't…. didn't mean it… forgive… please" Dean moaned.

It was curiosity again. Castiel entered the dream.

Hell again. This time though, when Castiel reached the torture chamber it was a very different scene.

There were two Deans. One was chained to a wall by the rack and the other covered in blood with shimmering black eyes was working on the man on the rack. It was Castiel.

It was an odd experience, hovering in the doorway watching himself be tortured. Castiel watched his double turn and look at the chained Dean, blue eyes wide and devastated, "Please Dean…. Why are you doing this to me Dean? Why do you hurt me?"

The Dean in chains was sobbing. "I'm sorry Castiel! I'm so sorry… please forgive me…"

"Shut up!" snarled the demonic Dean. "Of course you want to hurt him. That's what we do" he crooned.

The other Dean shook his head vigorously.

"You know it's true" the demon insisted. "We destroy everything we touch. Daddy died to save us and Sammy's turning into a monster because we left him all alone. Now it's time to take down this angel." He took a knife and started carving a design onto Castiel's back, reveling in the screams.

"No, please… please stop! I'll do anything, anything!" cried Dean.

The demon chuckled. "Dean, Dean, Dean… Why are you fighting this? You can't lie to yourself," he said with a smirk. "You want this. You know you do. You want to take this heavenly being and bring him down to your level. You want to strip him down and rub up against him like some kind of horny teenager…"

"In fact…" the Demon reached down and started unbuttoning his pants a twisted grin creeping on to his face. "Let's get this party started…"

"This is going to hurt" he purred, "we learned from the best after all."

The Castiel on the rack screamed as the demon entered him. But it was nothing compared to the one that wretched from the chained Dean.

Castiel couldn't stand to watch this any longer. He went over to Dean, released his bonds, and led him away.

They ended up in an empty anonymous motel room. Dean collapsed on the floor shaking and crying. Castiel just stood there for a minute, trying figure out what the hell happened before sinking to his knees and reaching a hand out to gently stroke Dean's back.

Dean looked at him then and his eyes were so empty, so dead that Castiel shivered. "Why did you save me? I don't deserve to be saved" he said in a low pitiful voice.

In that moment Castiel realized what a broken heart felt like. Or maybe not, maybe it was worse than that. He felt like someone had ripped his heart out of his chest and all that was left was the dull ache of phantom pain. He wrapped his arms around Dean and rocked him gently until he finally calmed.

"Why Dean?" Castiel whispered as he pressed his lips gently to the top of Dean's head. "Why would you dream that?"

Dean let out a dark laugh. "That's what I do. I hurt people."

"No. You don't. You _save_ people."

"Maybe, a few. Strangers mostly. The people I care about though…" He left the thought unfinished.

_Care about?_ Castiel thought. "I don't understand Dean. Are you…do you… You care about me?" he asked, astonished.

Dean snorted, "You know, for a part of my subconscious you're pretty dense."

"Your what?" Castiel was confused. He pulled back and searched Dean's eyes for the meaning. "You think I'm just a figment of your imagination?"

"Duh."

Castiel opened his mouth to respond, but quickly closed it. He had nothing; he was still trying to wrap his head around this new information.

"I'm sorry" Dean said softly bringing Castiel's focus back.

"What are you sorry for Dean" he asked gently.

"For wanting you. For using you. I don't know what's wrong with me…" Dean's breath hitched and he looked away ashamed.

"Hey," Castiel tenderly cupped Dean's face and turned it back to him. "You have nothing to apologize for. You have nothing to feel sorry for. I… I am the one that must beg your forgiveness Dean. I thought…I…" He leaned in and lightly pressed his lips to Dean's. "Everything is alright. I promise."

Dean's lips twitched into a small smile that did not reach his eyes. "That's why you're here. To lie to me."

He leaned in and kissed Castiel before he could protest.


	8. Chapter 8

AN: Hello gentle readers, I'm struggling a little with this. I'm trying to finish out the season because I'm a continuity whore and because it was so damn good! The tough part is not just repeating the scenes that we've seen or the ones that seem obvious. Let me know what you think!

* * *

Cas couldn't stop thinking about last night. He'd tried to convince Dean he was real, was about to wake him up even but he was called away. Another seal. Reapers gone missing. Wards against angels. Send Dean Winchester. Time is of the essence.

Dean's stubbornness fresh in his mind, Castiel opted to impersonate Bobby Singer to enlist the boys. Uriel was furious.

"This, this subterfuge is beneath us Castiel!" he fumed. "You should have ordered that worthless little bastard to do his duty."

"Dean can be… obstinate. Given the urgency of the matter this seemed the most prudent course of action."

"You're playing a dangerous game Brother" Uriel hissed, "catering to whims of a mud monkey."

And then he was gone and Cas was left to contemplate the dream. He had a rudimentary understanding of the human psyche but he was quickly learning that it is infinitely more complex. Some part of Dean wanted Castiel, he was sure of that now, but there was also part of him that didn't.

Dean was physically attracted to Castiel, or at least his vessel, both the good dreams and the nightmares seemed to indicate as much. This physical attraction was clearly distressing to Dean on a number of levels though.

First, was the false dichotomy of human sexuality Dean seemed to operate under. _"Masculinity still intact…" _Castiel recalled. Silly human.

Second, was Dean's concern for the vessel. Cas had been avoiding thinking of Jimmy Novak. It was one thing to use Jimmy in the ultimate battle between good and evil. To use him for his own personal edification…

Third, Dean was still burned by the psychic scars from hell. Castiel may have been able repair Dean's physical body and even mend his soul a little but there were wounds that were beyond Castiel's power to heal. He now had a clearer picture of how Dean had suffered at Alistair's hands and the angel was certain that before this war was over Alistair would pay for those torments.

Dean's experiences in Hell seemed to correlate to the fourth reason, Dean seemed to think he wasn't worthy of Castiel's love. Dean had never really felt worthy of anyone's love, but he was absolutely certain he didn't deserve it now. That's why he could believe that Castiel was real. He couldn't believe that someone could know him, know what he had done, and still love him. He couldn't believe a human could love him, much less an angel, much less God…

Somehow, Cas would have to find a way to convince him.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN:** Takes place between "Death Takes a Holiday" and "On the Head of a Pin"

* * *

Pamela Barnes was dead.

Castiel watched the funeral services from afar. Once the rest of the mourners had retreated to the comforts of cold cuts and alcohol he made his way to the headstone. He bowed his head and began to recite:

_Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine,_

_et lux perpetua luceat eis._

_Te decet hymnus Deus, in Sion,_

_et tibi reddetur votum in Ierusalem._

_Exaudi orationem meam;_

_ad te omnis caro veniet._

_Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine,_

_et lux perpetua luceat eis.__1_

He was so absorbed in his prayer that he failed to hear Uriel calling him.  
"Castiel…Castiel…CASTIEL… "

"_Cas,_" he finally sneered as he walked up to the grave site, breaking Castiel's concentration.

"Yes Brother?" Castiel asked, not bothering to look up.

"I've been calling to you and you only respond when I use that bastardization of your holy name."

Castiel slowly lifted his gaze and coolly replied, "Did you want something?"

Uriel was momentarily stunned by Castiel's impudence, but he quickly recovered. "What exactly are you doing here?"

"Praying for the dead."

"A dead human."

"A human who died for the protection of a seal. She deserves the respect of a fellow soldier" Cas said firmly.

"And what about your own garrison? Or have you forgotten about your slain kin?"

"No, I haven't forgotten. I pray for them as here as well." Castiel turned to face Uriel. "Has Alistair given you anything?"

"No."

Castiel nodded, "That was to be expected."

"That may soon change" Uriel said, his lips curling into a knowing smile. When he saw that he piqued Castiel's curiosity he continued. "We've received new orders. We're to 'bring in a specialist'," he said with a dark chuckle that Castiel found disconcerting.

"What?"

"Who better to break Alistair than his protégé?" said Uriel with a grin.

Castiel couldn't breathe. "No! No, we can't!"

"_Excuse me_?"

Castiel struggled to maintain his composure. "Dean, Dean's important… important to averting the apocalypse. We can't risk his sanity on what might be a fool's errand."

"Our superiors think otherwise."

"Well they're…" Castiel caught himself be for he finished that sentence.

Uriel cocked an eyebrow, "One more thing, I am now to take point on Dean Winchester."

"What? Why? You despise him."

"Precisely. You have grown far too attached to that boy. Your emotional reaction to this conversation is proof enough of that. Your sympathies are making you weak, making you doubt the will of the Lord Castiel. That is unacceptable. You will remain here with me for the time being but if you cannot disengage yourself from the Winchester boy…"

Castiel swallowed against the lump in his throat, "Understood."

1 Latin from wikipedia.org/wiki/Requiem


	10. Chapter 10

**AN:** Takes place between "On the Head of a Pin" and "It's a Terrible Life" Feedback would be greatly appreciated!

* * *

"Well, I guess I'm not the man either one of our dads wanted me to be. Find someone else. It's not me."

Dean looked away and expected Cas would disappear. He didn't. They sat in silence, not uncomfortable, but not companionable either. Too exhausted to be anything other than just there.

Castiel's presence was at once soothing and infuriating to Dean. Cas didn't make him talk like he knew Sammy would as soon as he got back from calling Bobby.

At the same time Cas was a reminder of all that he had done.

_Lucifer. _

_Hell on earth. _

_The motherfucking apocalypse. _

_All my fault. _

_The ultimate fuck up in a life characterized by massive fuck ups. _

The nurse came in then and started checking his vitals. Jenny, according to the shiny plastic nametag. She asked the obligatory "How are we doing today?" and chattered about the blandness of hospital food. She blushed a little when she checked his catheter.

_She's cute_ Dean realized, he hadn't noticed before. Didn't really care now, just an observation. She administered more Demerol in Dean's IV. He welcomed the oblivion of drug-induced sleep.

***

Sam called Bobby. He also called Ruby.

She was thrilled he'd managed to take out Alistair. "Shit Sammy, you're in the big league now"

"Yeah, well, I'm gonna be on Cas's radar now."

"Yeah well you saved his holy ass so I don't think he's gonna be all making with the smiting."

"Besides," she snorted "he never do that to _Dean_."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Never mind. I gotta beat on our girl. How long you gonna be there?"

***

Dean was in the hospital a full week- longer than he'd ever been before, even after the car wreck that should have killed him. Castiel was the reason. He'd secretly upped Dean's pain meds to force him to sleep and manipulated his lab work so they'd keep him "for observation". It seemed the best way to force him to heal and get some peaceful rest. Cas figured Dean would be back to torturing himself soon enough.

When he finally was discharged he was withdrawn, couldn't even muster a quip about the indignity of being wheeled out in a wheelchair. Sammy slid behind the wheel of the Impala and told Dean that they were off to investigate some "leads." He intimated that they were leads on possible cases but Dean was pretty sure they were leads on Lilith.

He couldn't bring himself to care.

***

Zachariah was not pleased.

Dean's depression was irritating, but hardly material. In fact, it was, on the whole, very helpful. It solidified Sam's view of Dean as weak and pushed the younger Winchester on the path toward Armageddon.

No, the issue was the grunts on the ground. The rank and file angels like Castiel. They needed to buy that the fight was for the seals and having the key player on the bench wasn't projecting that image.

So Zachariah was forced to intervene. Play God… so to speak…


	11. Chapter 11

**AN:** Takes place between "It's a Terrible Life" and "The Monster at the End of this Book."

Feedback is greatly appreciated!

* * *

_Fuckin' angels._

_Three weeks wasted as a corporate douche. _

_Should have stabbed him in his fuckin' face. _

After their conversation in Dean Smith's office, Zachariah had given him an address a few blocks away Impala was parked. Then he blinked out to deal with Sam Wesson.

When Dean pulled up to the curb outside of Sandover Sam was waiting wearing his total bitch face. He got in the car without a word and Dean hauled ass out of town. Didn't even know where they were going, just wanted to get as far away from there as possible.

Every night Dean Smith had the most intense and erotic dream. He could never make out the other person with him and he was always in an alley, which seemed like a really strange fantasy, but it was so fervid that he craved sleep each night. During the day when he'd find his mind wandering there he'd try picturing Tracey in accounting, Beth from IT, or the woman who lived across the hall there with him. They never fit though, square pegs in round holes and whatnot.

And now Dean Winchester remembered why. It wasn't a woman there with him. Wasn't even really a man.

After the mess with Alistair Dean had been so focused on his guilt over the whole, you know, apocalypse thing that he'd managed to, well, not forget, but at least avoid thinking about the dream.

Now he couldn't escape it. The feel of his warm body pressed against him… _Goddamnit_. He shook his head trying to wipe the mental slate and shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the tightening in his pants. Sam looked at him like he was nuts. Which, he kind of was.

_Fuckin' angels._

They pulled off at the next exit to gas up and get some burgers. When Dean walked out of the McDonalds with their food Sam was just hanging up the phone.

"So I just got off the phone with Bobby."

"He musta been freakin'."

"No, get this- he's been talking to both of us."

"What?" Dean said as they both got in the car. "Unbelievable… Fuckin' angels."

They divvied up the food and Dean inhaled a Big Mac before Sam was a quarter of the way through his chicken sandwich. "Dude, I'm starving."

"Yeah, I bet" Sam smirked.

_Oh boy, here we go. _

"Laugh it up college boy. At least I was making more than minimum wage."


	12. Chapter 12

AN: This takes place during "The Monster at the End of This Book."

* * *

Chuck had a headache.

Again.

Life was stressful enough when he thought he was just crazy. Now he finds out he actually is a fucking prophet and his head splitting open from the Word of God…

He needed a drink.

Again.

He downed his last beer. Time for something stronger. He went in to the den and reached into the liquor cabinet. His hand closed around the neck of the first bottle his fingers reached.

Was it sad that he could tell exactly what it was from just that touch?

"Hello Chuck" Castiel said quietly.

"Gah!" he shrieked, nearly dropping the bottle in his hands. "Oh, for the love of…"

"I need to know Chuck," Castiel said somberly "Do you see everything?"

Panic flooded Chuck as thought back to his conversation with Sam.

_Shit. Uh, ok… think… stall._

"Um, I, uh…"

_Yeah, stalling is going really well. _

He dared to look at Castiel and the angel's eyes were boring into him.

_Wow, they really are as blue and deep as a majestically swirling ocean_

That was his first thought.

His second, Castiel was scared.

_Scared and…Embarrassed? _

_Oh, he wants to know if I know about the dream. _

_Shit._

"Oh, ah, no… there are some things I shouldn--- CAN'T see. Um, private things that should remain… private" he stammered and took a long swig straight out of the fifth of vodka in his hands.

Castiel nodded, relief coloring his normally impassive face, "that is… good to know."

Chuck took another drink.


End file.
